A true giant of the faith

Among the many Christians who God has raised up over the centuries to defend the faith, G.K. Chesterton must be one of the great figures at the dawn of our contemporary age.

A significant influence on the intellectuals of his day, Chesterton communicated his faith with a style of writing that would only be matched by C.S. Lewis (and some of Lewis’ own words are heavily dependent on what Chesterton had already written!). Gilbert Keith Chesterton (1874–1936) was a writer by profession. Author of over 80 books, he was enormously versatile: producing history, detective novels, poems, plays and newspaper columns. He was also literally enormous. Standing at 6’4”, and weighing nearly 300 pounds, the adult Chesterton was a forceful presence. In days when humour did not need to be filtered for the easily offended, he said of his friend George Bernard Shaw: ‘To look at you, anyone would think a famine had struck England.’ Shaw replied to Chesterton: ‘To look at you, anyone would think you had caused it.’

Chesterton’s ability to poke fun and sharpen wit contributed to his skill in communicating the faith in graceful language that could be pithy, insightful and memorable. Writing for newspapers, he engaged with the issues of the day and gave voice to a faith that was robust but reasonable.

Commenting on the rising tide of atheism he wrote: ‘The worst moment for the atheist comes when he is really thankful – and yet has nobody to thank.’ He presented the Christian faith as a worldview, an interconnected view of things, that made sense of the whole of life. Two of his most famous books, Orthodoxy and The Everlasting Man, present the Christian faith in this compelling, all-encompassing way.

His perceptive observation led him to note that the attack on Christianity would always be an attack on the family. Over a century ago, he realised that the first thing the enemies had to do to undermine the faith was to undermine the family. Regarding crime, he expressed more sympathy for the ordinary burglar than for the intellectual shaping the modern state because, ‘instead of stealing decently for his family’ they want ‘to steal the very idea of family from his fellow men.’

To destroy the family, Chesterton notes the rise of easy divorce and remarriage, the disconnection of sex from marriage, and the blurring of the distinction between men and women. An apologist can identify these cultural trends, often long before many pastors or bishops have realised what is happening. How about this comment regarding the rise of liberalism? ‘Modern broad-mindedness benefits the rich; and benefits nobody else.’ A remarkably timely comment on the liberal elite of our own day.

Chesterton is not without critics. His novels include what appear to be anti-Semitic tropes regarding Jews. However, this was very much of his time and it is worth noting that, in The New Jerusalem, he argued in favour of Zionism and a homeland for the Jewish people. He also argued fervently against the eugenics movement and the racism evident in the rise of Hitler.

Chesterton became a Roman Catholic in his later years. This can make him an uncomfortable fit for evangelical apologists. But don’t let this spoil reading some Chesterton for yourself. His conversion to Catholicism reflected his observations on the failure of liberal culture and the infiltration of those liberal ideas into the church.

Roman Catholicism offered a context where the orthodox Christian worldview seemed less likely to capitulate to the zeitgeist of the time. Rather than dismiss Chesterton for his conversion to Catholicism, we should rather consider how we ensure our churches are places where robust convictions, commitment to Biblical authority and willingness to be out of step with the world are the norm and not the exception.